


What Lies Ahead

by Sammy_Rae22



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Awkward Daryl, Bottom Daryl, Cute story, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Foster Care, Highschool AU, Hurt/Comfort, Lovey-Dovey, M/M, Mention of Child Abuse, Moody Beth, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sappy, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow at First, Tags May Change, Top Negan, future smut, longer fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-03 19:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13347717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammy_Rae22/pseuds/Sammy_Rae22
Summary: After the death of his farther, Daryl Dixon is sent to foster care and transferred to a new school where he learns to open up, trust, and maybe even fall in love.





	1. March 26, 2018

Daryl ran faster than he's ever ran before. He ran till his legs felt numb, and he ran till his lungs screamed for air. Yet, he didn't stop. He  stop. Not until he was back home. There was something wrong; he just knew it.

There's another gunshot heard in the distance, the sound echoing through the woods and disturbing the birds just like the one a few minutes prior. This time, however, it was unmistakable to where it came from.

Ignoring each painful footstep and each haggard breath, Daryl kept sprinting. He could see his trailer in the distance. He only needed a few more yards. Just a few more.

The door was cracked open when he reached his trailer, and he almost hesitated before opening it completely. Somehow he knew what was waiting on the other side of it.

Sure enough, in front of him stood his brother, Merle, with a pistol in his hands; their father was on the floor, blood seeping out from a gunshot wound to his leg and another in his head. His eyes were still open, making Daryl cringe and want to look away. But he couldn't; he could only stare.

"What did you do, Merle?” Daryl whispered, his voice shaking.

"He can't hurt you no more," Merle mumbled, his eyes dead and blank as he stared at the pooling blood. The two stand in silence, neither knowing what to say or do.

The sound of sirens in the distance brings them both back to reality.

 _The neighbors must have called the police, those nosy shits_ , Daryl thinks as he quickly closes the door, locking it behind him.

Merle doesn't move. He only stands there as he says, “You should get outta here ‘for the pigs come.”

Daryl shakes his head in disbelief, “No! ‘M not leaving ya Merle!”

“Goddammit, Daryl! Get out!” Merle finally yelled, looking at his brother with a serious glint in his eyes. But it was too late. The lights of the police cars flashed through the windows as they sped through the trailer park.

The realization finally sets in as Daryl looked at his brother. Merle’s face said it all. He knew that he was going to jail and it was obvious that he had accepted it. Daryl, though, didn't.

“Merle. Help me hide him!” Daryl said as he desperately tried to tug at his dead father’s arm. The skin had already turned cold under his grip, but he tried to ignore it as he pulled harder. He knew it was impossible, but he couldn't let his brother go to jail. He couldn't lose him like this.

“Daryl, stop! Just fucking go!” Merle said. Daryl could see that he had already given up, so he tried pulling harder but the corpse didn't budge.

The sirens were deafening now as the cars came to a stop right outside the trailer. Seconds later, loud banging came from the door as an officer yelled over the noise, “PD! Open the door!”

“Go!” Merle hissed in a warning tone. When Daryl didn't move, he ripped his brother’s hands from the body and pushed him toward the back door. In the process, Daryl falls, hitting his head on the corner of the coffee table, making a loud crashing sound; he’s unconscious in seconds.

The noise is just enough to draw the polices’ attention as the head officer banged on the door again, “This is your last warning! One…”

Merle curses loudly, running a hand through his buzzed hair as he looks between his unconscious brother, dead father, and the door that was gonna burst any moment.

“Two…”

He didn't want Daryl getting involved in any of this; this was his choice and his responsibility.

“Three!”

The door flies open in that moment, pieces of wood flying in all directions. Then the police come swarming in, guns immediately aimed at Merle. Slowly, Merle raises his hands in the air.

Groggily, Daryl cracks his eyes open at the noise. He reaches for a sore spot on his forehead, his fingers coming back slick with blood. It's almost in slow motion as Daryl watches from the ground as the cops rush all around him. They’re all focused on Merle who’s now being pushed against the wall with his hands cuffed behind his back. Daryl wanted to scream for them to stop, but he couldn't. His head hurt so bad, and he was just so tired. He lets his head fall to the side and right before he fades back into the black nothingness, his eyes meet with the dead ones of his father’s.

——

Daryl wakes up in the back of a cop car, his hands cuffed in front of him. He first looks around, noticing that it's dark. He can't see anything besides the dimly lit clock on the dash and a bit of a silhouette of the driver's face as a car drives past them. He then notices the cuffs and pulls at them, the chain rattling in the silence.

  
The officer looks back, finally noticing the boy.

“What's going on?” Daryl asks curtly. He was very confused and his head hurt. Then he saw the dried blood on his fingers and it all came back to him. He then quickly adds, “Where's Merle?”

“Your brother is heading to the station and so are we. We have to ask some standard questions to you, and then we’ll decide what to do from there.”

Daryl frowned, the officer’s words going in one ear and out the other. His head was still pounding and it was hard to think. He reached up again only to feel dried patches of blood. The driver watched him in his mirror and clarified, “The EMT’s checked you out and said you’ll be fine. Only a minor concussion, but it's best if you tried taking it easy for a day or two.”

Daryl didn't answer, leaving the rest of the car ride silent.

When they reached the station, the officer gently led Daryl inside. They made a few turns down a hallway before they reached a room. Daryl was ushered inside and ordered to wait. Inside was only a table and two chairs opposite to each other. Daryl took a seat closest to the wall and waited.

He worried about Merle as he sat staring at the bare wall. His mind wondered what they were doing to him. His thoughts were interrupted, however, as the door opened and a man in a suit walked in. Immediately, Daryl’s guard was up.

The man wordlessly took a seat, laid his briefcase on the table, and pulled out a notepad and pen. The two then stared at each other for a moment before the man introduced himself as “Detective Sal”.

“I have a few questions for you. I would really like you to answer them as honestly as possible so that we can understand the situation properly. You understand?” Detective Sal started.

Daryl only nods yes.

“Good. We'll start with something simple. What's your name?” The detective says, his eyes never leaving Daryl.

“Daryl Dixon.”

“How old are you Daryl?”

“Sixteen.”

There's a moment of silence as the man writes on his pas. He then asks in a more serious tone, “So why don't you tell me what happened?”

Daryl is quiet for a long moment as he pulled nervously at his fingers. He didn't want to say anything that could get Merle into any more trouble, so he stayed silent. The detective must have noticed Daryl's hesitancy and said, “We can't help you, or your brother, unless you tell us your side.”

Finally, after a while, Daryl caved. His words were bitter and gruff as he explained, “I was comin’ back from the woods when I heard a gunshot from the house. I ran in and... and he was already dead. Cops showed up a few minutes later. Nothin’ more to it.”

The detective only nods as he writes something down on the notepad. He then asks, “What is the cut on your head from?”

“Fell...” Daryl answered shortly.

“Fell or pushed?” Sal inquired, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

Daryl doesn't answer causing the man to nod to himself before writing something down on his pad again.

“Did you like your father, Daryl?”

“No…” Daryl answered honestly.

“How come...?”

Daryl doesn't answer and the man just nods again.

“Okay... how about your brother. You like him?”

“Yeah...” Daryl answers as he squinted at the man. He didn't understand what he was trying to get at.

“Your brother said you were having disagreements with your father. Is that true?” Sal asked, reading from his pad.

Daryl couldn't stop the scoff that left him.

“Is that funny?” Sal asked, raising another eyebrow.

“No. Just wouldn't call them disagreements...” Daryl shrugged. He looked away, finding the wall more interesting to look at than Sal.

“What would you call them then?”

Daryl didn't respond.

“Did your brother and father have disagreements a lot?” Sal then asked, changing the subject slightly.

No answer. There's a long silence before the detective moves on.

“Did your father ever physically harm you or your brother?”

Daryl gives one sharp look to the man before casting his eyes back down to his folded hands. He refused to answer anymore stupid questions. lol

The man finally realizes he wasn't gonna get any more information from the boy, so clears he his throat before getting up.

“Oh, one last thing. Do you have any relatives nearby that you could stay with?” Sal asks as he lays a hand on the door nob.

“No...” Daryl answers. He didn't have any family except Merle.

“Okay. Thank you for your time and honesty, Daryl. Someone will come back for you shortly.” And then the detective was gone, leaving Daryl alone to his thoughts again.

  
\-----  
There's a knock on the door before another man comes in.

“Dixon?” He asks.

Daryl looks up, silently indicating that it's him.

“Can you come with me?” The man says, opening the door wider.

Daryl gets up from the seat and follows the man down a long hall. As they walk, Daryl catches a glance of a bunch of cell doors, and he wonders if Merle is in one of them.

“Can I see my brother?” Daryl asks.

“I'm sorry. We can't allow you to do that,” the officer says with a hint of pity.

Daryl wanted to tell him to fuck off and let him see his own damn brother, but instead, he shut up and continued walking. No use getting himself in trouble.

They reached another room where five other people stood waiting at a conference table. They all seemed to straighten their posture as Daryl walked in.

“Hello, Mister Dixon. Please take a seat.”

Daryl hesitantly takes a seat in front of all of them, his hands getting fidgety in the cuffs.

A woman on the far left begins the conversation. She gives Daryl a fake smile as he says, “Due to the current situation, you have no known relatives that could take you in for the time being, and since you are under the age of 18, you are legally now apart of a foster system.”

Another woman jumps in to add on before Daryl can, “Fortunately, we were able to find a foster home on such a short notice. We think you will be very happy there.”

Daryl didn't understand what he was hearing. He didn't need a foster home. He could take care of himself, 18 or not.

“We know this must be hard, Daryl, but we made sure that you will be comfortable in your new foster home. Now, is there any possessions you want to bring with you?” A gentleman asked.

Daryl shook his head 'no' absentmindedly. There was nothing there worth keeping; it would only remind him of his shitty life anyways.

“Very well,” the first woman said. She's about to say something else but Daryl interrupts her.

“Can I see Merle?”

They all looked around at one another, unsure of what to say. Finally, the second woman shook her head, "I guess it wouldn't hurt to say goodbye"

Daryl didn't like the sound of goodbye, but he nodded anyway. As long as he could see Merle again.

He was led down another hall where the cells were and at the far end sat Merle, handcuffed and alone in an empty cell.

"Merle," Daryl whispered.

Merle looked up at the sound of his name and brightened instantly at the sight of his brother. He stood up and walked towards the bars, so he could get closer.

"Hey, baby brother.” Merle grinned.

"They're sending me to a foster home, Merle,” Daryl said. He was expecting him to get angry or lash out, but Merle only nodded in disappointment.

"Yeah. I know. But you'll be okay. Maybe this new joint will be good for ya. A chance to see what normal is like,” Merle said. They both knew it was supposed to be a joke, but it didn't sound much like one. Not when it had a bitter truth to it.

"I don't want to go though... I don't want to leave you,” Daryl said. His voice wobbled as if he was going to cry.

"Now don't get pansy on me, Darlina. You'll be fine. Hopefully, they'll let ya visit me every once in a while,” Merle said, winking. The nickname lightened the mood causing Daryl to smile back slightly.

"... Thank you,” Daryl whispered as he leaned his forehead against the cool bars of the cell. The thank you was a lot more than just for the comment. It was for everything. It was for staying with him when mom died, it was for taking care of him when he was little, it was for teaching him everything he knew to survive, and it was a thank you for ridding the only thing that ruined their lives. Daryl could live freely now without the thought of their father anymore.

"Don't mention it, brother. You gotta do what you gotta do,” Merle said weakly.

Daryl gave a small smile before an officer forced him to leave. He was then led outside and into another cop car without a word. His cuffs were taken off, leaving a red mark all around his wrists. He rubbed them as the driver got in.

They drive in silence for an hour before Daryl started to drift off to sleep, finally letting the past few hours leave him for a short while.

——

“Hey, kid, wake up.”

Daryl blinks his eyes open and sits up in the seat. It's still dark outside, but he can tell that they're in a rural area. It's nothing but trees and hills, besides a large, white home in the distance. It doesn't take long for Daryl to realize that that was where they were heading.

“You need to be respectful to Mr. Greene while you're in his home, okay? I don't know how long you'll be staying there but from what I'm guessing, it'll be a while,” the officer explains as they drive up the driveway.

  
Part of Daryl wanted to tell the man to fuck off and not tell him what to do, but he decided against it. Something told him that it was best if he stayed quiet and out of trouble for a while. It still bugged him to think that these people had the nerve to send him to some strangers house. He hoped this “Mr. Greene” was nothing like his father.

 _It wouldn't matter anyway_ , Daryl thought, _Merle would be out of jail in no time_. The police surely would let him go if they knew what their father was like; they should see Merle as a hero as much as Daryl did.

There's an older man waiting on the porch when they come to a stop, and Daryl’s hesitant as he walks behind the officer to the house. The man looks friendly as he smiles largely at the newcomers, but Daryl doesn't trust him yet.

“Hi, I'm Hershel. You must be Daryl,” The man, _Hershel_ , says, holding his hand out for Daryl to take. The boy looks at it for a second before briefly shaking it without a word. Hershel notes the lack of distrust, but he doesn't push on. He then changes the topic by motioning towards the car, “You have any bags or belongings to bring in?”

“No…Sir,” Daryl says, adding on the extra sir. He couldn't help but think of his pa and how he demanded utmost respect. Daryl wouldn't admit it, but he was nervous and scared. His survival instinct was kicking in and the best way to get through this was to play nice for now.

Hershel stares at him for a moment as if he were thinking before he nods his head and reassures, “Very well then. Follow me and I'll show you to your room.”

The officer takes this as his queue as he gets back in his car and drives off. Daryl's hesitant again as he enters the home. He First notices that it's clean and older looking and so much nicer than his trailer.

Hershel leads him to a room upstairs on the far right. He lets Daryl go in first before he follows.

Daryl looks around in a bit of awe. The room was a lot more than what he was expecting.

“Mine?”

Hershel chuckled, “I know it isn't much but I'm sure it'll suffice.”

It would do more than just _suffice_. Daryl wanted to tell him that it was more than he could have asked for. He never had his own room before, and certainly not one this great. Sure, he knew that anyone else would think it was just a normal room, but to Daryl it was an upgrade from his ratty mattress on the floor.

Hershel lets the boy look around as he makes his way to an old dresser. “There are some clothes in here that should fit. You're about the same size as my son was before he passed.”

Daryl only nodded in thanks.

Hershel continued, “Anyhow, we’ll go over everything in the morning when you're all rested up, alright?”

Daryl nods again.

“Okay then. Goodnight.”

Hershel walks out, closing the door behind him. Once the door’s shut, Daryl walks over to the drawers and pulls out a pair of sweats and a tee. They're a bit big on him when he tries them on, but he finds it good enough. He then turns off the light and crawls in the bed. He sighs as he practically melts into the cushion.

In the dark, he stares at the ceiling and thinks. He thought about Merle and how he was probably doing; Daryl doubted his brother was in a comfy bed like he was. He then thought about Hershel and what things would be like here. He didn't hate it completely. He had a bed and his own room, but he didn't know if that would change. What if Hershel would snap and take everything away? What if he would whip him? There were so many questions. He then thought about his pa for a moment. He was glad he was dead.

He stays awake for a long time before he finally begins to drift asleep.


	2. March 27, 2018

Daryl wakes up to the sound of commotion from downstairs. Judging by the sound, he can tell that Hershel isn't the only one down there, and immediately he’s on guard. In one quick movement, he gets to his feet and grabs the closest item to him, which happened to be a baseball-sized paperweight from the bedside table. He clutches it tightly in his palm as he quietly walks out into the hall and down the steps.

He stops just before he turns the corner to the dining room and listens. He can't hear any voices, only the sound of chairs scraping against the hard floor. In his head, he could only picture big men with guns and masks. With that in mind, he took a big breath in, preparing himself for an attack, before moving from his hiding place and into the open.

He freezes, his arm positioned as if he was about to throw the weight, as he looked at two girls at the table, both shocked and confused. All three of them stayed still, unsure of what to do.

At that moment, Hershel quickly walks into the dining room and pulls Daryl’s arm back down to his side before giving him a reassuring pat on the back.

“No need to be alarmed, Daryl. These are my daughters, Maggie and Beth. And Girls, this is Daryl. He’ll be staying with us for a while,” Hershel explains.

Daryl licks his lips nervously as he looked the two girls up and down. The first girl was a brunette who definitely looked older than the other, maybe even older than him. The other was blonde with blue eyes; she didn't look happy at all but Daryl ignored it.

“Hi, I’m Maggie,” the older girl said, flashing Daryl a smile. Daryl didn't understand why she was so happy to meet him; he was nobody to her. But he gives her a small nod anyways. He glances at the blonde who was on her phone, completely ignoring everything.

“Please sit, Daryl. I’ll get you something to eat. In the meantime, maybe you guys can get to know each other a bit more,” Hershel suggests.

Daryl hesitantly takes a seat furthest from the girls. He then sets the paperweight on the table in front of him before nervously folding his hands in his lap. He chews on his lip as Hershel goes toward the kitchen, leaving the three alone. Feeling awkward and completely out of place, Daryl finds himself looking everywhere but at the girls.

Maggie is the first to strike up a conversation. She’s hesitant as she starts, “So… how old are you?”

Daryl's weary, but he answers anyway in a quiet voice, “Sixteen.”

“Oh… cool.”

It grows awkward again when nobody says anything else. Maggie, however, tries again to break the silence.

“Uh… how about your favorite color?”

Daryl looked up in confusion. What did his favorite color have to do with anything? He didn't even think he had a favorite color. After a while, he only shrugs in answer.

“Well, my favorite color is orange. Favorite book?” Maggie says, trying to keep the conversation going.

Daryl continues to look blankly at her. He didn't answer. He didn't want to tell her that he's never actually read a book before.

The blonde, Beth, suddenly looks up from her phone and sighs loudly in annoyance. She then looks at Maggie unhappily before hissing, “Can you just stop acting like he belongs here!”

“Elizabeth!” Hershel abruptly scolds as he comes into the dining room with a plate in his hand. He doesn't stop glaring at his daughter as he gently sets the plate in front of the boy. He then grits his teeth together as he says, “Excuse me while I have a word with my daughters.”

Beth only rolls her eyes as she scoots her chair noisily back and stomps off to a conjoined room. Maggie follows shortly after, her father behind her. He gives Daryl an apologetic look before closing the door behind them.

Daryl sighs and looks down at his plate of eggs, sausage, and toast. He couldn't remember the last time he's ever had a meal like this, but he suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore. He sat thinking about what the girl had said for a moment before he was suddenly distracted by the conversation from the other room.

“What was that about?” Hershel asked unhappily.

“I should be asking you that! You're the one who brought a stranger into our house!” Beth said angrily.

Daryl winced to himself as he listened. He knew that if he ever talked to his pa like that, he would have been whipped till he passed out. He tries to ignore it as he focused on listening again.

“I told you both about this before I even signed up to be a foster home, so you knew what to expect. Sure, Daryl was a bit of a last minute surprise, but we will treat him with respect nonetheless. He's been through a lot, and he doesn't need any more harassment- especially from you,” Hershel argues back.

“You already have two children! Why do you need another one? Ever since Shawn died, you've hardly paid any attention to us! Are we not good enough for you, dad?” Beth cried. Daryl could tell by the sound of her voice that she was close to tears.

“It's not like that,” Hershel said.

“Well call the agency back and tell them we don't want him!” She snapped.

Daryl couldn't help but feel disappointed. He had finally found a place that he thought he would be happy in, but low and behold, they didn't even want him there. He was starting to think that the world really did hate him.

“Elizabeth! What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing's ‘gotten into me.’ I just don't want him here!” There's a long bang that followed shortly as if she had slammed her palm against something.

“Stop that! And Lower your voice before he hears you,” Hershel scolds before finishing with, “I will not tolerate this, young lady. Go to your room.”

There's a loud huff before the door slams open and Beth walks angrily out and up the stairs, but not before she gives Daryl a deadly look. She then disappears upstairs.

Hershel walks out with Maggie following quietly behind him. The old man gives Daryl a sorry look before saying, "I'm sorry about her. This is new for us, and she's just taking a bit longer to warm up to it."

He then looks down at the untouched plate and notes out loud, "You didn't eat anything."

" 'm not hungry," Daryl mumbles, politely pushing the plate away from him. Hershel gives an understanding look and doesn't push anymore. He just nods and takes a seat beside Daryl. Maggie then follows suit. It was obvious that her smile was now fake and forced, but she didn't stop.

"Well, I guess this is as good of a time as any to go over some rules and expectations. The only thing I require from you is to help around the farm and do some daily chores like everyone else. It would be simple things such as feeding and maintaining the horses and maybe even maintenance, " Hershel said, "During the week, you'll be attending school at Northview. I have everything set up for you to start tomorrow. Now I know that Northview is quite a change compared to your last school but I'll assure you, everything will be alright.

Daryl stopped himself from scoffing. Hershel was definitely right about it being a big change. His last school, Douglass HS, was full of thugs and delinquents that cared about nothing but drugs and violence. Half the time Daryl never even showed up to school and yet, nobody even cared or noticed. But Northview was a completely different ballpark. Back in Douglass, Northview had a particular reputation of being full of rich, stuck up pussies; however, Daryl was sure Douglass had its own equally bad rep.

Hershel continues, "The only rule I have for you is for you to respect me, my family, and my home. That's all I ask. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir..."

"Good... Maggie?" He turns to his eldest daughter. "Can you show Daryl around the farm and explain everything. I need to talk to your sister."

"Yes Daddy," Maggie nods.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Hershel says before getting up and laying a kiss on her forehead. He then disappears up the stairs as well.

“I think Shawn had some shoes that may fit,” Maggie says before getting up from her chair and walking to a closet. She pushes past a bunch of coats before coming out with a pair of old work boots. She hands the wordlessly to Daryl. Daryl awkwardly holds them, debating if he should wear them or his sneakers. Maggie notices his uncertainty and urges, “C’mon, try them on.”

Daryl gives in and tries them on. They fit nicely, and they're a lot steadier than Daryl’s dirty, old, torn up sneakers. Maggie throws on some shoes for herself before leading Daryl outside.

“So things are pretty simple around here. We wake up, feed and water the animals, go to school, come back, do a few chores, and the rest of the day is up to you,” Maggie explains as they begin to walk. She first leads him to the garden. She stops at the head of the rows to elaborate more, “We just planted a bunch a few days ago, but we usually all help maintain it. Ya know, water them and keep weeds away.”

No, Daryl didn't know, but he nodded anyway, seemed simple enough.

Maggie then heads for a large stable that was at the far end of the farm. As they walked she pointed to a broken piece of the horse fence,” I hope you know how to fix stuff. Beth and I don't even know where to begin, and Daddy's getting too old to be carrying large planks of wood everywhere. You'll be a big help around here.”

Daryl doesn't reply, but he can't help but feel a little pride. Maybe he’ll be useful for once.

As they grew closer to the stables, Daryl noticed the cluster of chickens. Maggie noticed too and laughed, “Beth and I take care of the hens and eggs so you won't have to worry about them. You’ll be in charge of the horses.”

The horses were out in the field so when they entered the stables, they were empty. Maggie briefly goes over instructions for feeding, watering, and grooming the horses with Daryl before whistling and calling “Chestnut” really loudly. After a few moments, there was a soft thudding as one of the three horses came trotting into one of the stalls. The horse was, like its name hinted, a chestnut color.

“This is Chestnut,” Maggie said, as she reached to pet the animal. She softly combs her fingers through its hair as she continues, “The other two are Nelly and Hero. Nelly is a bit skittish and Hero is quite stubborn but I think they’ll both behave fine for you. Any questions?”

Daryl shook his head no as he tentatively reaches to pet the horse as well. As they two pet the horse, Daryl’s mind began to wander elsewhere.

"Your sister always like that?" Daryl asked out of the blue. He had been thinking about it for a while now, and he wanted to ask. Maggie’s obviously taken back but she answers anyway.

"She used to not. She just has a lot of built up anger and sadness, and so she sometimes just blows up,” Maggie explains, not taking her eyes off of Chestnut, “Our mom died when she was born, and I think she blames herself for it. Then Shawn died and well, she kind of just broke. Her and Shawn were really close; closer than I was to either of them. And when he died in a car crash a few months back, she got really torn up about it. I haven't seen her smile since. I know she may seem like a bitch right now, but once she warms up to you, she can be one of the sweetest girls out there "

There's a long pause as Daryl thinks about what was just said.

"You act like him, and I think that hurts her a lot, "she explains. She then quickly adds on, "I mean, I know that you can't help that of course."

Daryl looks at her before turning to look at their surroundings again.

"So... " Maggie starts again. She wasn’t used to being in such a one-sided conversation this much. "Why are you here anyway?"

She then realizes her mistake and recovers, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to be rude. You don't have to tell me or anything."

And Daryl doesn't tell her anything. He wasn't ready to talk about it yet, and he wasn't sure if he would.

Maggie nods in understanding before saying, "That's okay. But if you ever wanna talk, I'm all ears."

Daryl couldn't help but feel thankful for her understanding. She gives him a small smile which he shyly gives back causing her to grin.

"You miss your mom and brother?" Daryl asked quietly. He missed his mom and Merle... a lot.

"Of course I miss them. They were my family," Maggie says, kicking some dirt with the toe of her boot.

"Don't mean nothin', " Daryl points out. He thought of his pa. He was technically family but that didn't mean he missed him.

"For me it means something," Maggie states as she glances at Daryl. She could tell something was up, but she doesn't push it.

"We should get back before Daddy gets worried," Maggie says, nodding towards the house. Daryl nods in agreement before the two head back.

-

By the time lunch rolled around, Daryl was starving. Maggie made ham and cheese sandwiches, and Daryl ended up eating four. He didn't know if he ate so much because he was actually hungry or that he still wasn't used to the whole three meals a day ordeal. He was so used to not eating for days at a time, that he unconsciously ate as much, and as fast, as he could.

Both Hershel and Maggie didn't say a word about Daryl’s lack of manners and continued on with their meals. Beth didn't come out of her room so it was just the three of them at the table. The father and daughter talked about random things as they ate, and every once in a while they would ask Daryl a question he would hesitantly answer.

After lunch, Daryl went back up to “his room” for some much wanted alone time. He wasn't necessarily tired, but he needed something to do to pass the time. He tried not to think too much as he laid on the bed and closed his eyes. Fortunately, he's quick to fall asleep.

-

Daryl wakes up by a knock on his door. He checks the alarm clock and sees that it's little past 4:30. The knocking starts again, then followed by a cautious, “Daryl? Can I come in?”

Daryl can immediately tell it's Maggie at the door. He debates whether telling her to fuck off so he could sleep or to say yes. He decides the latter, immediately feeling bad for just thinking about being rude to her when she been nothing but to him so far.

Maggie gingerly opens the door and slips inside, closing it after her again. She smiles softly when she sees the boy’s bed head, but she chooses to not bring it up.

“Daddy wanted me to keep you company,” she says before quickly adding, “unless you don't want me here. I can leave if that's the case.”

She gets ready to reach for the door when Daryl doesn't say anything at first, but he stops her.

“ ‘s fine,” he mumbles in his usual rough, hushed tone. Maggie seems to brighten at that as she moves to sit on the bed next to Daryl’s feet. Consciously, he brings his legs closer to his body and away from her.

“So,” she starts, “anything you wanna talk about?”

Daryl shrugs. He didn't necessarily feel like talking.

“Okay,” Maggie says awkwardly as she bites her bottom lip, “How about school? You nervous? I heard that Douglass school is a lot different from Northview.”

Daryl shrugs again. He was, of course, nervous, but he didn't want to admit that. Plus he never liked school. It was boring, lonely, and sometimes downright miserable. However, school was always Daryl’s escape from his father, so he didn't despise it completely.

“Well, I wouldn't worry. Northview is a pretty awesome school- or as awesome as a school can be. Both student and teachers are pretty nice and understanding so you’ll probably make friends quickly,” Maggie says. Daryl only nodded in response. He wasn't too sure he'd make friends as easily as she claimed; he's never really had a friend before, besides his brother, but even then Merle wasn't much of a friend.

“Were you in any clubs or sports back at your old school?” She asked.

Daryl shook his head. He was never allowed to participate in after-school activities because of his pa; he would always tell Daryl he wasn't good enough to do it, and maybe his pa was right, so he never tried. And he definitely wasn't smart enough for any academic clubs either so they were out of the question.

“That's okay! It's not always for everyone,” she says positively. She then beams with pride as she says,” I wasn't much into clubs either until I joined academic bowl, spell bowl, 4-H, and FFA. I love them all now.”

Daryl nodded along, but he was starting to not listen as she went on about all of her achievements and goals. He really didn't care, but he didn't wanna be rude so he stayed quiet and listens- for the most part. At one point she even changed subjects and started rambling about her grades.

Thankfully at around 5, Hershel knocks on the door and lets the two know that dinner is ready, interrupting Maggie from her nervous babbling.

The two head downstairs and into the dining room together. Beth was already at the table, her phone in hand and eyes on the screen. She ignored the two as they took seats at the table. The table itself was lined full of dishes of food such as lasagna, corn, and bread. It smelled amazing.

Hershel comes into the dining room carrying a pitcher of something before setting it down and sitting in a seat at the head of the table. He wordlessly reaches his hand out to his oldest daughter who then holds Beth’s hand. They all bow their heads then and Hershel starts, “Let us pray.”

Daryl follows suit and awkwardly tilts his head down as Hershel says a quick thank you. He didn't necessarily believe in god, but he played along anyways out of respect. He didn't want Hershel throwing him out because he wasn't religious. Part of him knew Hershel probably wouldn't do such a thing, but he still scared at the possibility.

As they filled their plates, Daryl glanced over at Beth who was on her phone, shutting everything around her out. Hershel seemed to notice too as he cleared his throat and said, “No phones at the table, please.”

Beth didn't argue as she briefly sighed and put the phone in her pocket. She refused to look at Daryl as the meal progressed. Nobody really said anything besides the occasional “how was your day” and “okay”.

Beth was the first to excuse herself and go back to her room. Next was Maggie who went to start on dishes, leaving Hershel and Daryl alone. Daryl didn't eat much of his dinner, his stomach not used to eating so much in a day. He sat quietly pushing his food around his plate as Hershel silently watched him.

It was edging toward 7 pm when Hershel finally said, “You should get to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

Daryl didn't mention that he took a several hour nap already, but rather nodded and obediently headed back to “his room”. He was surprised by how tired he still was as he changed into sweats and a tee shirt and laid in bed. He briefly thought about Merle and how tomorrow would turn out as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
